AANCHAL PUNCCHI
From Whisk to Wardrobe
The Soulful Journey of De Chokcolat’s Creator
What begins in the quiet corners of our lives often becomes the loudest expression of who we are. For the founder of Dé Chokcolat, baking wasn’t born out of business ambition, but from an emotional urge to give back. Starting with late-night batches of Belgian chocolates made in a modest kitchen, the journey has since evolved into two powerful, expressive brands — one that feeds the heart through desserts and another that dresses the spirit through fashion. In this candid conversation, she reflects on the values that shaped her, the transition from cakes to clothes, and the art of building soulful brands that speak, stir, and surprise.
From experimenting in your kitchen to creating Dé Chokcolat , what personal emotions or turning points fueled your journey into baking?
It all started from a very raw, emotional space. I was pursuing my master’s degree and teaching underprivileged children at the time. The initial idea behind baking was just to earn a little extra pocket money — not for myself, but to support those kids with basic things like stationery and school fees. I began with Belgian chocolates, mostly made late at night in my kitchen after long days.
What changed everything was the overwhelming response. People loved the chocolates so much, they began encouraging me to expand — cakes, desserts, you name it. That constant push from clients who believed in me, combined with my passion for creating art through food, turned a small act of giving into a full-blown brand.
There was no grand business plan — just a lot of heart, a deep need to create, and the desire to make people feel special through what I served. Looking back, the turning point was realising that baking wasn’t just something I was doing — it was something I was meant to do.
Dé Chokcolat has become more than just a dessert brand—it feels like an experience. What values or principles have shaped its identity?
At the heart of Dé Chokcolat is the belief that desserts should do more than just taste good — they should evoke emotion. Every creation is rooted in the principle of making people feel seen, celebrated, and surprised. One of the biggest values I hold onto is authenticity. Everything is made from scratch — no shortcuts, no compromises. I pour my creativity into each order, whether it’s a motion cake, an anti-gravity structure, or a classic design with a twist. I don’t just follow trends; I create moments that leave a mark.
Another core principle is connection. I treat every client like family. Their stories inspire my design.
What’s the one dessert from your menu that feels most like ‘you’—and why?
It would have to be my Belgian chocolate and fresh fruit-based desserts. They truly feel like the essence of who I am — a blend of richness and honesty, indulgence and simplicity.
Belgian chocolate was where it all began for me — my first experiments in the kitchen, the first thing I ever sold, and the flavour that still brings back a sense of nostalgia and grounding. It’s deep, intense, and timeless — just like the passion I’ve always carried for creating.
On the other hand, fruit-based desserts bring in a sense of freshness and light — they’re playful, vibrant, and full of life. I think that duality reflects me well, rooted in something rich and meaningful, but always craving freshness and newness. Together, they represent what Dé Chokcolat stands for — bold, handcrafted desserts with soul.
Transitioning from baking to fashion is a bold leap. What inspired the shift, and how did the idea for the clothing brand with Agam take form?
Honestly, it never felt like a “shift” — it felt like an expansion of expression. Baking was my first canvas, but art, design, and storytelling have always been a huge part of who I am. Spuur was born from that same creative fire — but this time, it took the shape of fabric, form, and streetwear.
Agam and I always shared a passion for aesthetics — we’d spend hours talking about visuals, textures, music, and movements. And one day, it just clicked. We realised there was space to build a homegrown fashion label that wasn’t just about clothing, but about individuality. Something raw, modern, and unapologetically expressive.
The new fashion label embraces loose, art-driven designs. How do you see comfort, art, and identity intersecting in what you create now?
For us, comfort isn’t just about how a garment feels — it’s about how authentic you feel wearing it. At Spuur, we see clothing as a personal canvas — a way to wear your mood, your mindset, even your rebellion. That’s where art comes in. Our designs aren’t trend-chasing — they’re expression-led. Every drop carries a visual story, inspired by raw thoughts, underground movements, or the energy of our city.
The loose silhouettes give people space — literally and metaphorically — to move, to breathe, to be whoever they are in that moment. And that’s where identity intersects. We’re not just making fashion — we’re crafting freedom. Spuur is for the ones who don’t want to fit in a box — and don’t mind standing out for being real.
Working alongside your brother, how do you navigate differences in creative opinions while building a shared vision?
Working with Agam is honestly one of the most creatively chaotic and fulfilling parts of this journey. We’re two very different energies — I’m more instinctive and detailed, while he’s bolder and driven by big-picture thinking. So yes, disagreements happen — a lot. But the one thing that grounds us is respect. We both know that at the end of the day, we’re chasing the same vision — to create something that feels fresh, fearless, and unapologetically ours. We’ve learned to listen more, argue less, and trust each other’s strengths. There’s no ego in the room — just a shared belief that Spuur deserves our best. And because we’re siblings, there’s also this unspoken rhythm… even when we disagree, we somehow always find our way back to the same page.
That push and pull — it keeps the brand sharp. It keeps us sharp.
Has your experience as a baker influenced the way you approach design, branding, or storytelling in fashion?
Absolutely. As a baker, I learned early on that the tiniest detail can create the biggest impact — whether it’s the layering of flavours or the visual poetry of a cake. That same attention to emotion, mood, and storytelling has become the backbone of how I approach fashion with Spuur. At Dé Chokcolat, every cake was a story — a moment captured in design. And now with Spuur, it’s the same, just told through fabric and silhouette. We don’t chase trends. We design around feeling — around what moves people.
Take our collection, “Amalfi Hums” — it might sound soft, but it carries a quiet power. This collection speaks to those who lead with quiet confidence. It’s about strength that doesn’t need to shout — calm energy, steady presence, and standing your ground without losing softness. It’s for the ones who move through the world on their terms — composed, intentional, and completely unapologetic.
That duality — of light and depth, of sweetness and edge—is something I’ve always worked with, whether in desserts or design. It’s not about one extreme or the other. It’s about holding both — and letting the world feel it.
With two creative ventures now under your belt, what excites you most about the road ahead, and where do you feel you’re still evolving?
What excites me most is that the canvas keeps getting bigger. Whether it’s a cake that moves or a garment that speaks, I’m building brands that blur the lines between art and emotion — and there’s still so much I haven’t explored. New formats, new stories, new audiences — the possibilities feel limitless.
But I’m also aware that growth isn’t just outward — it’s inward too. I’m still evolving as a creative entrepreneur: learning how to protect the integrity of my vision while scaling it, how to say no more often, how to trust people with what once felt deeply personal.
I think the biggest shift is this: I’m no longer creating just to prove something. I’m creating because it feels honest. And that shift — from pressure to purpose — is where I know I’m growing.